ASS and abusive parents

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In a physical or emotional way - anyone who wants to share their experiences about this? What would the effect be on the person's sensory issues, meltdowns, any Aspie/Autie trait?

Neither my sensory issues nor my parents have affected my ass in any way.

Yes, but it is being talked about on a seperate (indeed, two!) thread.
However, I will say my abuse centered mostly on stimming and poor school performance ( in math & a couple of other subjects).

Sincerely,
Matthew

Are you saying that the alien anal probes daddy told me about were actually something else??

All that time he was practising to be a proctocologist? At least he spent some of his medical salary on nice gifts and hotel rooms

Either one alone has a negative effect. The negative effect would be even worse for someone dealing with both.

Both my parents were probably unknowing spectrumites, dad was a drinker and mom a church goer.

Both had a lot of problems growing up, and realistically, any blame I direct at them, is probably unreasonable.

Dad had to hide all day in a disused chicken coup during WW2, sneak out at night for food.

Mum came from a highly dysfunctional family of 9 children, she was a twin, who lost contact with her whole family for the last 40 years of her life....

As such, their parenting skills were quite below average, to say the very least. But, look where they came from before you judge them

@ The OP. You may want to edit the subject line of this thread and change ASS to AS. The meanings are slightly different!

If you don't mind answering, what did the Nazis want to kill him for? (In my case, if I'd been alive then, they would have gone after me not just as "anti-social", which I am pretty sure dragged down a lot of undiagnosed people with AS in those days, but for ocular albinism. Hereditary, gives very poor vision.) And, yeah, anyone who lived through that mess on the right side of things deserves a free pass for a lot of things. (Anyone who lived through it on the wrong side, strutting around with swastikas on, only gets a free pass if that's how they had to hide to keep from being killed. Like the poor Jewish kid who joined the Hitler Youth. I don't know how he kept from projectile vomiting every time he spouted that crap, but I guess you learn to do what you have to in order to survive.)

Whether you answer or not - I'm always glad to hear anyone those creeps wanted to kill made it through the whole war. Every one is another failure for the "Aryan supermen". And I really love it when they fail. Especially when it means somebody actually survived them.

I'm sorry but I dont wish to elaborate further, as my father has pasted away now. Thanks for your support

Both my parents families have been victims of ethnic genocides. Even going back 400 years, my fathers side had to leave France due to persecution from the catholic church.... the whole clan bailed France, forfeiting their property to the church.

As always, its about the money, but god becomes the shield and sword for abuse of those minorities which are different from the bigger/biggest gang

As I recently told a former co-worker "the woman I found out my mother was, and the woman who raised me were two entirely different experiences".


My mother, I discovered, was indeed Autistic. I actually found out thanks to that short documentary Autism Reality, after watching those kids dancing around...and it reminded me of everything my Mom used to do.

After this, I quickly looked at my parents' wedding album, and saw that my grandfather and his father also had the "stare". So basically, Autism runs in the family; no one realized it with my Mom though because she had a breached birth.

My Mom was pressured to be "normal" her whole life when her brain tried telling her otherwise. By the time my Dad married her, she was a shadowy husk of her former self, heavily self-loathing, and ready to take out her frustrations.

She took them out on a certain helpless kid a few years later; take one guess as to who that kid was.

My Dad is not Autistic, but he definitely has something very close to it. Never been much of an emotional man, and doesn't seem to understand the world around him any better than my Mom did. He also wasn't treated very well as a kid either, but being more of a passive person, decided to seek self-help books and alternate philosophies for answers.

Admittedly, in doing so....he learned about critical thinking, which I learned from him. I don't think he's good at it by any stretch, but he certainly showed me the pathway to it.

Regardless, after I realized my Mom was Autistic I decided to break down and put thru heavy analysis my parents' entire honeymoon for my Dad, to give him a better understanding of the experience he went thru. He partly understood it, but at the same time I'm under the belief that he deep down feels bad that he just didn't know how to help her, and due to his generally poor understanding of the world around him, and how people work, still really doesn't understand either.

On the flip side....ever since my Mom passed away, I believe she's been sending me "signs". Her favorite animal was the elephant, and in the past several years, more and more have been popping up in my life consistently...and it's been getting a lot more frequent as the 10 year anniversary of her death draws ever closer.

It's almost as though she's finally redeeming herself, and doing a helluva better job guiding me than she ever did in life...now that she no longer feels chained up by the burdens of peer/family pressure, she can finally send me signs, indicating I'm on the right path.

It's a very enjoyable feeling, I assure you.

But I will tell you something incredibly ironically funny: when I was talking to my Uncle last year about my Mom, and he was being a total ass about Autism, he told me I was never raised with the love, attention, and affection that "most" other kids are raised with. I keep thinking to myself that because I'm Autistic, I don' know how much it would've mattered anyway, cause I really don't understand the concept of feeling love for my own family, or for that matter feeling like I'm receiving it.

so at least in that regard, it's almost like it was a moot point.

I just laughed until I choked.

My mom (who I lived with until a few years ago) never abused me, though my stepdad (her husband at the time) did try to strangle me once (fortunately they divorced quickly.) My mom has scitzophrenia though, so there were a lot of emotional issues with that, especially whenever she decided she no longer needed her meds. My dad, who I live with now, never abuses me, but can get a bit mad at times. I think my dad is probably on the spectrum somewhere but not diagnosed. Neither of my parents really seem to understand how to handle my meltdowns (which fortunately happen almost never) and always end up making the situation worse.

I'm sorry you suffered at her hands, but reading this, I wonder if she wasn't passing on what she'd learned. Any attempt to make an autistic person "normal" is likely to turn abusive, so perhaps she really believed this was what she "had" to do to help you "get along in the world". I'm not saying it was right. Not at all. But it does sound to me as if she may have been too messed up by her own upbringing to understand what she was doing, and might even have been doing what she thought she had to do as a parent.

Yes, it is weird feeling sorry for someone in one sense, while loathing what they've done in another, but I mention this because it sounds as if you're trying to come to terms with her memories.

I grew up before anyone knew autistic could mean anything other than "silent kid who rocked in a corner", and I had eye problems and pretty strange parents (who both at least "had traits"), which helped obscure my own issues. And I was pressured to be "normal". For years, I thought I was somewhat "normal". And now that I'm unraveling all of the damage done, it is amazing to see just how messed up I really was. Things I thought were normal and okay weren't, really. So, as awful as what your mother did to you was, I have to wonder if she understood anything of what she was doing.

Well, as I may've mentioned before.....I've come to realize that her whole family tends to be very shallow, so it's not a surprise she would try to follow suit, even though she was indeed better than they are/were.

She was more concerned with impressing other people and getting their approval than actually being good at anything....and of course in the process, she wound up failing miserably at both. Wouldn't be surprised if this made her hate herself even more.

My Dad did try to help her....but the guy isn't very smart, and is very naive of many complex concepts. On top of that, while he preaches the critical thinking, he's a very weak person....I think my Mom could tell, and didn't respect him as much for it.

In other words, she found she didn't have anyone she could turn to, in effect...turning her fire on me.

Towards the end of her life, she saw that unlike she, I was not afraid to basically tell people to "shut the f*ck up"; basically, the fight in herself that she'd halfway given up on so long ago, she saw that I was not about to at all; she regrettably never saw what came of it, only my early years in doing so.

I came to learn who she was many years after she passed away by talking more with the people she interacted with, and seeing what she had to put up with. For some time, I even started heaping mountains of praise on her for who she was at one time. But what did cut that somewhat short was my realization that even if she'd lived, and I'd explained everything to her that I'd come to realize...I don't think it would've made that much impact.

The reality is....in the end, it always comes down to a choice of how one chooses to live. She made the choice of wanting to be just like the shallow, superficial people around her, when she was capable of so much more. She made the choice of desperately wanting acceptance from those people, when she would never get it, and in the process I don't think she'd ever have been able to come to the terms of understanding and realization that I have.

On the plus side, I do believe that in death, she's been guiding me quite a bit....basically having realized to put aside the petty desires to impress others and finally be a good mother. In other words: she's decided to finally pursue redemption, after a lifetime of putting me thru hell in the futile attempt to "impress" everyone else.

And I must say: she's doing a helluva better job now than she ever did during her life.